Phantasm for Frostbite
by UnderminetheAuthority
Summary: NEW: When Anna sacrifices her life for her sister, something goes terribly wrong—Elsa unleashes a wrathful vengeance, killing Hans, and inadvertently causes a catastrophic maelstrom. Years later they awaken, but in a world far in the future, where monsters and guardians take the skies. Will they adapt to this wonderful and frightening new world, or perish at its claws?
1. Introduction

**Summary**

When Anna sacrifices her life for her sister, something goes terribly wrong—Elsa unleashes a wrathful vengeance, killing Hans, and inadvertently causes a catastrophic maelstrom. Years later they awaken, but in a world far in the future, where monsters and guardians take the skies. Will they adapt to this wonderful and frightening new world, or perish at its claws?

Frozen meets Rise of the Guardians and Hotel Transylvania in this action packed, romance filled story, where not even I can yet tell the end. Each chapter stretches from 2k-5k words, however this will be much shorter as it is just a kickoff. I cannot stress enough…Please review throughout the story! You have no idea how much motivation one measly review brings to this measly writer. Or ay writer, I assure you. ANY review is welcomed, ESPECIALLY criticism. In addition, if you request a certain character to appear more in the plot, or in the plot at all, just tell me, and if it is within the possibilities then I would be happy to oblige in order to enhance your experience as a reader.

Pairings

Elsa/Jack

Kristoff/Sophie

Anna/Mavis

* * *

**I****ntroduction**

The moon shone across snow-graced streets, lamps hazy in the softly falling flakes. They touched the ground like icy kisses, slowly painting the scenery with more and pleasant whites. The sky's silver bathed each darkened rooftop, glancing off the windows and swirling past smoke in a mystic motion. And, where the flurries swirled strongest, there floated a boy with colorless hair and glowing skin. He seemed to radiate, a cold sun among the chill, staff in hand. His attire was rather ragtag—torn brown pants and an old hoodie. No shoes. No gloves. But the boy was not rigid. He was not uncomfortable or uncouth. Rather, a perfect air of eloquence surrounded him. Every motion was fluid, natural, and brilliant.

They called him Jack Frost.

Bringer of beautiful lights, frightless nights, and snowball fights…though he was known most of the later most feat. The certain mischief that came with snowball fights was after all his specialty; no day passed where fun and joy was not spread with his contagious delight. It was his sole purpose. His center.

Fun.

And boy did he enjoy it.

Leaping from the sky he seemingly stood in, Jack laughed lightly and skid past the sidewalks. An icy path was left in his wake, a mirror reflecting the whirling air. He flew past house after house, past street after street and then town after town, as if skating on the asphalt, until he jammed his staff into the ground. Swinging with it like a pole jump, Jack came to a weightless halt in front of one familiar door. Then, much slower, his body hovered up in the hands of the wind to the window. Inside was a light blue room, covered with doodles and toy parts and marbles and models. Little pieces of clay figurines were scattered here and there, drawing pads flipped open to random pages, arrays of paints and charcoals splayed out in chaotically organized trays. In the center, above the bed, hung a large model of a snowflake. It was made of glass, supported by a myriad of thin silver beams, but upon closer examination it could be seen that writing was etched into every inch of the artwork. At the very bottom, a signature was carved, but so cryptic and light that only he could decipher the illustrator.

Jack knocked on the window, little tendrils of frost creeping over the glass. The soft clinking was met with a rustle from the person in the bed, who first rolled over in annoyance, then froze, and tumbled out of bed in a heap of sheets and pajamas. The mass squirmed for a while, shoved off the covers, and dashed for the window.

It was a girl about 17—her hair was a train wreck of gold, each strand pointing a different direction. The front was long but the back short, side bands shadowing her right eye. She hurriedly brushed them away to reveal eyes bluer then the ocean and a smile brighter than the snow, before she slid open the window. It wasn't locked—they were accustomed to meeting suspiciously in the middle of the night—but for a matter of respect he never invited himself in.

"Jack!" She exclaimed, poking her head outside and wrapping her arms around his neck. He laughed heartily in response, returning the hug and ruffling her hair more than it already was. They were like family, like siblings, brother and sister. They filled the voids their own families left behind, a bond formed after years of knowing eachother.

"Geez Sophie, don't strangle me," he joked. "You've gotten stronger…you haven't gotten into any fights have you?" The last part was only half a joke. She was actually renowned for getting into fights; but not physical ones, mental ones. It was rare that anyone even tried to bother her anymore, even the bullies.

"Only every day," she replied, returning the jest. He made a dramatic sigh, hunching his shoulders.

"Oh man. Sooner or later you're gonna end up being more mischievous than me."

"Uh yeeeaaahhh….maybe in another thousand years."

He winked. "You know me so well. Here, let's go on inside. You might get a cold."

"Not from _your_ snow I won't."

"Heh, don't be so sure about that kiddo. Get on North's naughty list again and I might bite."

"You wouldn't!"

"…Yeah, you're right, I won't."

He smirked. "I just won't bring snow."

She tackled him, bringing them both to the floor but cushioned by the fallen blankets. "Jerk!" She giggled, pounding his chest.

"Oh come on, don't be like that."

"But it's true, you're a big fat jerkface."

"Jerkface? We both know you can do better than that. That's a….that's a five year old insult."

"Is not!"

"You're right. It's a _two year old_ insult."

She punched him again.

"Whatever, jerkface."

He rolled his eyes, helping them both up to lean on the bedframe. He was behind her, she resting on his chest, as he combed through her sun woven hair with his fingers.

"I wonder how you'd look with hair like mine," he wondered aloud.

"You mean messy hair?"

"Hey, yours is messier than main, smart Alec."

"That's just because It's, like, midnight."

"Uh huuuh. Well I didn't mean messy. I mean if it was white."

"That would be awesome," she grinned. "I'd be, like, albino."

He tilted his head to the side in contemplation. "Nah. You look much better blonde."

"Well what if you were blonde?"

He stopped, taking a moment to give her an incredulous stare. "No. You are not going there."

They laughed. And then they went quiet. This was why he loved her. He made her feel like a person, like a brother again. They talked like friends did, they treated eachother like siblings. After centuries of enduring loneliness, the simple interactions they shared were beyond precious. It was different than talking with the other guardians…She was a kid, but she also wasn't. She had all the innocence youth entailed, but she had a kind of intuitiveness and understanding he never would have guessed a kid could have.

Deep down he knew that one day her innocence would disappear and she would move on in life, away from him, just like her brother across the planet. Yes that saw eachother, but he was always so busy. As a councilor and psychologist renowned across the coast, he had no time for a childhood memory, no matter how pleasant. He was making a difference for the kids Jack could not bring joy to, and so he respected him. But he also missed him. The get togethers on Christmas and Easter were not enough, though eventually there wouldn't be any for them to share.

Humans aged.

He didn't.

And that was the worst thought of all.

He shoved it back into the corners of his mind. Just thinking about it brought anxiety and sorrow, along with the terrible fact that Sophie too would grow old and die. But not before then, he assured himself. He was a guardian, but also _her_ guardian. Nothing would happen to his little sister under his watch.

A vibration shook the two from their mutual silence, a light slicing through the room. For a moment he thought that her mother walked in to see what the noise was about before, until he realized it was from his orb. He pulled a bright, wintery sphere from his pocket, letting the magic bleed energy into the room.

"Is it urgent?" Sophie asked with curiosity. Not only did she generally know the orb's purpose, but clearly recalled accidentally triggering it so many years ago and ending up in Bunnymund's domain.

Jack narrowed his eyes. Normally the orb would project some kind of image. But now it was completely blurred.

"I dunno," he muttered. "Something must be up with North if it's so…muddled." He hopped to his feet, hurling the contraption against her wall. It flashed into a blast of brightness, forming a swirling vortex of energy, a portal, against it.

"Sorry Soph, gotta run." He smiled at her, grabbing his staff. "I'll fill you in next time we meet."

Without waiting for a response, he jumped in.

The experience was a strange on. Normally it would just sweep him away, in and out. Instead, as soon as he got into the portal, he was thrashed around by the pure pressure. Something was very wrong. After a good two minutes of being swept around, keeping a deathgrip on his staff, he was thrown violently into North's control center. Before crashing to the ground he glimpsed Bunnymund, Tooth, and Sandman with the big guy around a pedestal.

His head spun and his side was sore from the impact. "Agh, dang North, heck was up with that? Your teleporters need maintenance or what?"

"No. Today is the day, Jack Frost. And so soon…"

He got to his feet, stepping between Bunnymund and Tooth.

"Day for what? What are you guys all serious about?"

Silence.

"Hey, hey! I'm out of the loop, so how about someone fill me in…?"

Tooth sighed softly. "Sorry Jack, we're all just surprised. None of us really know anything for sure…only the moon can tell."

"The moon…" He frowned. "But you said the last time the moon spoke up, it was to…"

"To choose the new guardian. To choose you," she finished.

"Guardians rarely get chosen, Jack," North added, a dire tone in his voice. "And it is usually under strange circumstances. For there to be two new guardians within fifteen years…even within the century…something very not right."

"And I guess it has more to do with your faulty teleporters."

"Shut it mates!" Bunnybund snapped. "And look."

The five of them stared at the pedestal, leaning in. Jack swore he could hear their collective heartbeats. Slowly the moon, full in his glory, bathed a beam of light upon it. As it came upon it, an image seemed to flicker. Then it was molded. The figure of a girl. She looked young and had a pretty face, choppy dark bangs and short hair over a thin figure. She was dressed rather strange, and sported a sinister looking cloak. She was smirking a quirky kind of smirk, two large fangs protruding from her lips. Something both innocent and corrupt possessed her eyes, enticing him.

"Impossible!" North roared, face the image of shock. Jack looked over to him, confused at the outburst.

"What? Do you know this girl?"

North ignored him completely. "This is a mistake, moon, there is no way you can allow this as a guardian!"

The moon flickered, the image disappearing. "You're sure you say? How can you be sure of such a strange and cruel thing?" He grit his teeth in frustration. "You're always right are you not, moon. But this will certainly not end well!"

The moon flashed brighter this time, another beam coming forth. North was instantly silenced, and grew still. Sandman looked on in wonder, an exclamation point glimmering over his head.

"Oh my," Tooth whispered. "A second one?"

"Now _this_ is what you call impossible…" Bunndymund gasped.

This image came much faster. The light revealed a taller girl in a magnificent dress, long braided hair wild and disheveled, yet majestic. She glowed like the moon itself and possessed an aura of something like purity and grace, even as just an image. It seemed to trigger something inside of him, from both the icy shock in his fingers to the frost of his name.

The words escaped before he could stop them.

"She's beautiful."

* * *

It was fast.

Too fast.

But it was also too slow.

She could see every moment, as her sister ran harder than she could probably physically manage, and as her once fiancé poised to bring his sword down over her head. She saw it all. There was the demonized glimmer in Hans' eyes, swimming in pools of murderous intent. She knew that behind them there would be not light but a horrible, decaying, searing greed which drove him. A fuel that would gnaw at his humanity whether or not he ended up killing her with that sword. It would start with his mind, and then work its way to his heart, so easily corrupted, and make him a monster.

Or was he already a monster?

Maybe Anna could answer her question, but her eyes were so unlike his, filled with the mirth of kindness and kinship and care. From them bled desperation and fear, but not for herself as she withered to ice, but for her. And that was worse than if Hans' sword had just torn through her throat. Her sister's selflessness was dagger, slowly penetrating her chest, to lurch and twist the flesh from her bones.

She saw it all, but she could not move. Her lips would not open. Her voice would not call, scream or beg for Anna to stop, to turn away, to kiss her true love and save herself.

And to apologize.

No.

Instead, her body was rooted to the ground, chained as Anna stopped before her, skin melting to ice, hair glazing to frost, eyes bleak and glassy. The blizzard seemed to part around her now that it could no longer hinder, as if the snow did not dare to touch the girl's fragile stance.

Frozen.

Hans' sword crashed down, but broke as soon as it touched. Shards of metal flew every which way and scratched her cheeks, but it was nothing compared to the claws stabbing her heart.

This could not be happening.

The one thing.

The one thing she swore she would protect.

The one thing that gave her happiness in her lonely world.

The one thing which gave her hope her ice would melt.

Gone.

The confused, shocked, and slightly angry expression of the man's face was replaced with sheer terror. Past the cold statue of the girl he deceived and betrayed, a great creature rose. The blizzard grew dense and hard; seeing a foot in front of him was a challenge. If he had tried to move, he would have found that the wind would sweep him off his feet. Ice would grip his bones, snow would suffocate him. But fear gripped him tighter. The silhouette of the beast just stood there, the shadows of long claws and towering spikes glancing through the haze. Two fiery eyes blazed through, filled with more fury, hatred, animosity than he could ever hope to muster.

Monster, he wanted to scream. Get away. Get away from me!

The 'monster' took a step forward. His face was numb, but he was sure his lips were shaking.

This was a mistake. This was not part of the plan. It was simple, so simple.

Court the princess.

Kill the Queen.

Get the crown, and happily ever after.

Apparently he was a fool for thinking it would be easy. Because no, Queen Elsa of Arendelle was not just a queen. She had to be a witch, a monster, and something beyond his reach. Everything was always beyond his reach—his parents' favor, his brothers' respect, his kingdom's love.

But who could have anticipated this? He cried out inwardly in selfish regret, hoping for a miracle which could never come.

It roared. That alone may have killed him from the fear. Either way, the claws which sliced him clean in half most certainly did.

Kristoff heard no cry of pain, no scream of death, but felt, smelled and tasted his blood carried by the wind and snow. It splattered all over his face, on his hands, over his clothes, and for a moment he thought it was Anna's blood. He thought that maybe Hans did end up striking her, but no. He knew it couldn't have been her, for a low glow far through the storm could only be her chill locked presence. But he saw behind it, a figure that scared the wits out of him. He was not ashamed to admit that. It was large.

No.

That was an understatement.

It was huge.

The beast sported claws larger than its head, and touched the ground. What could only be a tail dragged behind it, wrapping around the glow that was Anna's statue. It seemed unaffected by the raging maelstrom surrounding it, but emanated such wrath that he couldn't muster the bravery to move.

And then it looked at him.

His stomach seemed to leap to his throat, and his eyes widened, an overwhelming feeling overcoming the stinging in his eyes. But the beast's own gaze was slightly familiar, if not wholly so, as they penetrated his soul. Then he remembered—this was a little like how he felt when he met Elsa, the Ice Queen, back at her lonely palace. Her stare seemed to cut through him, attempting and possibly succeeding in peeling back his skin and scrutinizing the character he was. He recalled it as analytical, observing, criticizing almost, but not quite judging.

Simply deducing and knowing. Deducing and knowing whether or not he could be trusted. But she never really knew.

But this…this couldn't be Elsa. Elsa was kinda scary, yeah, and she had _hella_ scary body guards, but she wasn't a monster. He knew that from seeing how much she treasured her little sister, and how much she treasured her.

Gulping, mouth dry in contrast to his now soaked body, Kristoff took a step forward. For a moment he thought he would be tossed aside by the storm, but no, his boot met the crunch of snow and dug in. The beast's eyes flashed dangerously, but it made no move. For an eternity of bitter pressure they looked eachother down.

He took another step.

This one was harder than the first. He stumbled, hands and face in a cold burn as he forced himself up.

He took a third step, and remained stable. He wasn't sure if he was crying because of the pain, because if he was, then his tears were in the snow and in the air now. In the back of his mind he hoped that Sven was alright, and then that he probably wasn't, and took a fourth and fifth step.

Anna's warm glow and the shadow of the beast got ever closer. Desperately he wanted to be by her side, wrap his arm around her, and pray to whatever god toyed with them that she would be all right. And so a sixth step was made.

He was getting the hang of it.

Kristoff kept walking. It was more like, trudging, like clawing his way through, though. And the beast kept staring.

Then he could see them more clearly—the shining, crystal like form of his one true love. She was beautiful even devastated, an enchanting even though it pained him. And the beast…

Was no mere beast.

It was a nightmare.

What he imagined to be a powerful structure of muscle and claws was a thing of ice. Black ice. Ice enveloped in shadows, ice siphoned of its beauty and replaced with despair. His eyes widened and it loomed over him.

Kristoff reached for Anna. He was sure he would die. If not because of the beast, but because of the cold. He just wanted to touch her. Embrace her for the first and last time.

But the storm raged harder.

The cold breathed faster.

And the beast was upon him.

He was knocked into the ground, and he saw the claws, the tendrils of darkness, slick with blood. It was Hans' blood, spreading throughout the wind still but miraculously never being completely removed from the claws. He smelled it once again, and smelled his future.

"I love you, Anna," he gasped.

And the wind sucked away his words.

* * *

Past the lights of the cities and the hums of the rural, a dense forest of grand trees and wide lakes spread far. Under normal circumstances the forest would be soon overrun by greedy businessmen and men equipped with saws and bulldozers, but this was not a normal forest. Where the trees stretched tall, darkness clouded the trees. Where deer and bears roamed free, haunted entities live alongside them. Wicked creatures of which only fables could explain wove the feared threads which bound the forest's tale, giving anyone who came close a run for their money.

But that was the thing.

No one ever, _ever_ came close.

Most were scared of the forest. Some even revered it. Others less fortunate who dared venture in fell prey to the fiends of fairy tales, and yet more fear would fester. It was the perfect place for secrets—where men would never stick their noses and could not explore. If anyone strong and brave enough were to try, they would find something beyond the sinister cloud, something beyond the illusion of fear and accidents made real.

They would find nature untouched.

Lush wildlife flourished in the forest that was. Thick clouds hid this, but the dark green foliage was the home to many creatures. Known…and unknown. There were meek fawns, sturdy elk and colorful fish. But there were also spiders made of skulls, wolves with devil horns, and simple darkness. But it was the simple things which scared men the most.

Today, however, was a less scary day. In the dark and empty night sky, hardly a cloud could be seen. The skeletons and monsters inhabiting the forest lay low, and but a sound could be heard save for joyous laughter. It echoed into the caves and canopies, uncharacteristic of the scene. And across the lake, a young bat sped along, the tip of its wing grazing the crystal clear water.

It was an ominous creature, with soft black fur and magnificent wings. Her large eyes were filled with wonder and happiness, betraying her otherwise mysterious nature, absorbing each passing fly and jumping fish as if it was a dream.

For her, it was.

This was the first time she had ever seen the outside world, for she was the daughter of perhaps the most powerful and protective entity a girl could wish or dread for. Her father was Count Dracula. No one ever believed her, of course, until she proved it. Naturally she possessed the ability to turn into a bat. All Draculas could. She also possessed mediocre mind controlling abilities, but hey, her father was still training her. She was destined for greatness, they would say. She would lead the monsters, they would say. She would be just like him, they would say.

But she really, really, didn't want to.

Because while the the werewolves, the zombies, the mummies, even Frankenstein feared and loathed man, Mavis Dracula wanted nothing more than to know them. People bad. People cruel. People mean. People should be hated and feared and attacked, because they not only steal your candy and bite your toes, but kill monsters. That's what they all said, and usually she believed them.

But she also wanted to see them for herself. She couldn't help but think that perhaps they were not all like that—evil, candy-stealing, murderous abominations. After all, most of them fear monsters too. Perhaps it's all one cycle of fear and misunderstandings? There would be no way to tell but figure it out for herself. But no. Until now, Dad had just cooped her into the hotel all day long for 118 years. She was suddenly extremely glad that she made him swear over their mouse pudding to allow her to go to the outside world when she was 118 those 30 years ago.

And boy was it awesome.

Her soft pelt rustled in the wind, her clumsily oversized ears sensitive to the world. They twitched and swerved with each cracking twig, each rustling bush, each splash in the water. Every natural experience was a new one to her, overwhelming her senses. The calming quiet of her room was the opposite of the bustling melody of the forest, like a thousand unique instruments strung together in a hymn of discovery—and this was just the neighborhood! There was so much out there from here to Haweewee, and here she was on her way to just one small town on the edge of it all.

To say she was excited would be calling an ocean a pond.

Her wings flapped harder, propelling her up to the stars. This was the best she had ever felt in her life, the openness all around her, the freshness in her lungs. It was more than she could wish for her birthday, and she was sure her entire life had just led up to this moment.

"Whoo-hooooo~!" She hollered, diving down again. She could hear her voice echo, and spiraled through the dark. The leaves were blurs of green until she swung onto the highest branch she could find. It was atop the tallest tree, the one creased with wrinkles of age and knowledge. From there she could see the whole forest and the faint lights of the cities beyond, so far her supernatural sight could only see colored spots. And above, she saw the moon, full and bright.

For a moment it felt like the moon was talking to her. It seemed as if its light bathed her beast form, called to her, whispered in her mind.

And then it was gone.

Mavis shook her head, blinking several times.

Nonsense. The moon did not talk.

The moon was just the moon.

Scanning the horizon, she glimpsed rooftops and streetlights. They gave of a kind of soft glow, illuminating the trees around in a kind of low orange color. She smiled, not hearing the human bustle she had envisioned but also not minding.

Okay Mavis, this is it. Humans are right over there. Real. Live. Humans!

She bit her lip anxiously, careful to not bite _through_ her lip.

_What if they were just like Dad said? What if they mobbed, grabbed pitchforks, and went after me? Or worse?_ Her stomach churned at the thought of garlic. She was quite allergic to it, not to mention it just taste flat out gross.

But…on the other hand…what if they were the opposite? What if they were nice, and didn't run around with torches looking for monsters and hiding under their beds? What if they…liked her?

Feeding off that thought, she stretched her wings and stared towards the little town.

_Okay okay okay. I'm totally doing this, no backing out now. This is what I've been waiting for!_

_Three….._

_Two….._

_One…._

_Here I—_

BOOM.

The ground shook. It rattled up the tree, almost toppling her off her perch. Mavis yelped in surprise and got a better grip, tearing her sight away from the town and towards the source of the explosion. To her left, far from the village, a cloud of white covered the trees. A couple had fallen over, and glistening like crystals. It was kind of…pretty.

But it was also the strangest thing she had ever seen. She should probably go back. Tell Dad. Get him to tell her what was wrong, as per usual. But she was 118 now. She took a deep breath and puffed out her chest, swooping towards the sight. The mist was already settling, and it was then she realized it was snow.

She had heard all about 'snow' from Uncle Wayne and Aunt Wanda. It was a light, cold substance. Frozen water which melted when you touched it. She had once played in snow when she was just a little girl, fifteen years old, but she hardly remembered. Since then it hadn't snowed, and she hadn't been allowed outside anyway.

Quickly she flew from branch to branch, letting the snow turn to water on her back and wings. It was an exhilarating feel, but she was more interested in the huge crater from which it came. Felled trees surrounded it, enveloped in what could only be ice. The cold wood had been crushed in a swirling motion, and in the middle of it lay a reindeer, a man, and two young women.

Her eyes widened.

"Humans."

* * *

_**Okay, so I completely changed this from my original draft. For sanity's sake I have removed a fourth party...Sooooo, what do yall think? Please Review, it really is a great ego boost. Ahem. I mean, it's really helpful. Also, I am accepting beta readers.**_

_**~U.A signing out.**_


	2. Descending, Part I

**Descending, Part I**

For a long time, there was silence.

Dead. Shocked. Burning. Silence.

And he…he was captivated. Then the vision disappeared, and he still stared where the image used to be, wanting to know who she was more than anything.

So he asked.

"North, what about her? Some other 'strange evil being' you decided not to tell me about?"

The guardian in question uncrossed his arms for the purpose of stroking his beard contemplatively, lost in thought. "No. I have never…ever seen that girl. In my life. And my life has been long so far."

Jack turned to the others. They had equally thoughtful and confused looks, Sandman providing a shrug and a very, very large question mark.

"I second…third, that, mate," Bunnymund replied gruffly. Not a single Easter egg has met that girl, or I would recognize her."

"And not a single fairy of mine has found her either," Tooth added. "Though she looks like she has a _beautiful_ set of teeth! Almost as good as yours, Jack!" The fairy took on a look of happiness and excitement, hands clasped together. "Oh how I want to meet this new guardian!"

"Oh, you can say that again," Jack smiled.

"Looks like you got the _hots_ for her, Frost," the bunny snickered. Jack scoffed, hiding his blush, suddenly glad he hardly did.

"Yeah right. She's just…mysterious looking, you know? I'm just curious."

"Suuuuure."

"Shut it Jackalope, you wouldn't have a chance with her!"

"Why you—"

"Enough, enough! Both of you be quiet!" North snapped, cracking his knuckles. "This is serious. Never has a guardian been chosen so soon after a new one…and never have there been two at the same time."

There was silence once again. North met each and every one of their eyes, and when he met Jack's, the mischief maker realized how urgent the situation was. The other guardian's gaze was filled with seriousness, a tinge of anger and a little more of worry. Beneath it all, there was a speck of fear festering at the back of his mind, but no one, not even himself recognized it.

"Something is very, very wrong. Something the moon won't…or couldn't tell us. And something tells me it has to do with more than just few little naughty kids."

He sighed.

"Possibly even more than Pitch. And with the probable involvement of _them_, who knows what could happen?"

Jack quirked a brow. "Them?"

"The monsters," Bunnymund snarled bluntly. "The things that go bump in the night. What scares little kids shitless. What brings Halloween nightmares. The big bad wolf, the Frankenstein monster, the mummies…"

He glared at the wall, anger rising within him before he could help it. "You know, all them stories baddies which make kids stop believin'."

His eyes widened. "Woah….you're telling me all those kiddy stories exist? Like, werewolves, zombies, skeletons?"

"Well yeah. We exist, don't we?"

"They're the same as us, kind of," Tooth smiled, "Only with worse teeth."

North glared at her and she rolled her eyes, the natural glimmer not fading from them. "Well that, and they're like the other side of the coin. We're the good things, they're the bad things. We help kids, give them hope. They scare them, take it away. But the difference is, most monsters don't have to be believed. They simply….are."

"But they're still like us."

"Well…"

"So they can see me?"

Tooth's smile vanished, seeing where he was going. "Jack, they're not good influence. They do exactly what we try to prevent."

"But they can see me!" He exclaimed, slamming his staff into the floor. "All this time, there were others out there."

"Others who wouldn't think twice about making you like them," North pressed.

"Which is?"

"Evil."

"You don't know that."

"They scare kids! Hurt them! Haunt them! Remember Pitch? Remember the nightmares? It's like that. The more they believe in _monster_, the less they believe in _us_."

"To me it just sounds like you just don't want them to stop believing in _you_!"

"Jack!" Tooth snapped.

He took a quick breath in, realizing what he had implied. He shook his head and stepped back, sighing. "Sorry, North. I didn't mean it…It's just that I've spent so long alone. The thought that there were others out there, guys who could make me feel like I exist…"

"And we exist too, mate," Bunnymund grinned.

North nodded, adopting a softer look. "It's alright Jack. I know what you been coming from, but you have us now. You are our family. We are yours."

Jack scratched the back of his head. He felt guilty, but couldn't shake the feeling that the monsters couldn't possibly as bad as the other guardians claim them to be. North had never been judgmental like that….Tooth too. After all, they welcomed him with open arms, even with his troublesome notoriety. So what made the monsters any different? Well, scaring kids is pretty bad, making them lose hope is pretty much what Pitch had tried to do, but he had never heard of a huge dilemma resulting from them like how one did from Pitch. Perhaps their reputations precede them.

Or perhaps it went deeper. For the guardians to harbor such an intense loathing, something had to have happened. Suddenly aware of the talking around him, he returned from his thoughts to salvage what was left of the conversation.

"—And Tooth will find the silver girl."

He perked up. "Hey what now? Can't I take the silver girl?"

Bunnymund laughed. "You definitely have the hots. Don't deny it."

"And besides, I wanna meet her too!" Tooth grinned. "Oh when I get a look at those little treasures…"

"North, man, please?" He asked, trying to sound as sincere as possible. The bigger man rolled his eyes, putting on a serious face.

"Bunnymund is right," he stated flatly. "You have hots for her."

"Oh come on! Lay off guys. I don't."

"Sweetie, I think you do," the fairy laughed.

Sandman nodded in affirmation.

North put a hand on his shoulder, his infamously jolly face back like always. Seriousness was never his thing. "But I tell you what, Frost. When they get back, you can give her grand tour. I even let you use the fanfare!"

Jack weighed his options. Chances were, Tooth would not let up. Better take the chance while it stood. "Fine, fine. But I'll pass on the fanfare. I'll do it the fun way."

"Well, in case you change your mind, you know how to ask," he winked. "Ya can't go wrong with trumpets…"

"Yeah, yeah…wait, so what am I doing again?"

"You weren't listening, were you."

"Nope."

"At least you're honest. Well, you and and Bunnymund are heading south to find the other guardian." North tried not to let annoyance creep into his tone at the mention of that 'other' one. "We think we know where she is, and Bunnymund will take you there."

"What? Me and him? Together? Alone? There?" He half protested, half joked.

Bunnymund rolled his eyes. "Already covered this, mate, and I ain't too excited 'bout it either."

"Don't I get a say in any of this, ever?"

At this, North gave a hearty laugh. "Not today, Jack my boy."

"At least hold on a moment, I gotta take a minute to prepare for this kind of incompatibility—"

"Too late."

A hole opened up beneath him, and then Jack was falling.

Oh joy.

* * *

Mavis couldn't believe her eyes. There they were. Right in front of her.

Real.

Live.

Humans.

She pinched herself, blinked, and found that they were still there. Nope. Not a dream. This was actually, really, seriously happening.

Holy fucking rabies.

Remembering that they were very unconscious, and the circumstances were very strange, she jumped from her perch. Legs elongated, fur disappeared, wings melded back to arms, and magic dissolved into the air as she reverted back into her natural form. She landed in front of one girl, whose skin and hair shone like icy silver. It was woven into a single messy braid down her back, and she wondered for a moment that if she touched it, it would freeze her. The dress she wore gave off a similar vibe. In a word, it looked magnificent. The same cold palette was used in the design, but the frayed hem and splayed out cloak, dappled with what looked like snowflakes among the tears suggested something more wild.

The girl laid on her side, and didn't seem to be hurt. If anything it was as if she had passed out from fatigue, for her face—which was quite pretty she may add—was relaxed and had the look of a deep sleep. Gently and with the aid of her telekinetic abilities, Mavis took the woman in her arms. It was an awkward feeling….Not only was she taller, but radiated a strange chill. What she didn't see was the frost forming on the edges of both their dresses.

Oh, and let's not forget that she had never seen a human till oh…ten seconds ago. So touching a human? Also a first. Honestly the vampire was a little scared. What if they woke up and attacked her? What if the touch of this girl's skin burned through hers? What if, what if, what if. Her excitement and concern seemed to drown out the anxiety and fear, but only at the frame.

As carefully as she picked her up, she set her down at the base of a tall maple tree. Unbeknownst to her, skull spiders and shadow owls gathered in the trees and bushes, looking on at the scene with mixed emotions.

Mavis moved on to human number two—the man. He was…big. And burly. And big. And tall. And did she mention he was big?

Compared to him, she was a complete stick. Or maybe it was because she was comparing him to her, a generally skinny girl, that he seemed to huge. Either way he was bigger than her. He had a head of dusty blonde hair. Large hands were enveloped in thick gloves, his entire body decked in winter clothing, much unlike the first woman's much more sparing and delicate attire. He had a dark bruise above one eye, purple and blue and almost pulsing.

After timidly making sure he had no major wounds, keeping in mind the minimal first aid she was taught as a kid, she moved him next to the girl…but not too close. They didn't look like they were related. As soon as she let go of her physical and mental holds on him, he stirred. His face was troubled, mouth set in a hard line, eyebrows creased together. The man's hand moved to his hip as if reaching for something, until it fell limp again.

When she was sure he wasn't going to wake up, she let out a sigh of relief she hadn't known she held. Then she moved on to the second girl, human number three.

Before she couldn't see under the dust of the snow, but now that it had melted she could see it clearly. The girl's hair was a brilliant, heated red, like a red gold licked in flames. It was long and framed a peaceful, pretty face, so warm it made the other girl's look flint hard.

The girl laid on her back. She was dressed more like the man, and not as brilliantly as the other girl. While they felt so different, they looked quite similar. Perhaps they were sisters. Shrugging, Mavis kneeled down, sliding her hands under her. Surprised by the lightness and less awkward difference in form, she found she didn't have to use her telekinesis. Now able to concentrate better, she also discovered that the girl not only had a warm aura, but felt warm too. Maybe this was how humans were. Monsters were never warm, except for maybe Aunt Wanda or Uncle Wayne; they had fur. She herself had skin cool to the touch, and her father too. It was a Dracula thing. Then others, like Uncle Frank, weren't alive anyway.

Well, they were alive.

Just not _alive_.

Like, they didn't bleed. They didn't breathe. They still moved though. And they felt. And they were proper monsters just like her. But then again, plenty of monsters still bled. Like the zombies. They were dead, way waayy dead, but the blood was still—

Wait.

Blood?

She set down the red haired girl, but her hands were hot and wet and sticky. Her stomach clenched, a feeling of hunger she had never felt before rising inside her, and she looked down. Her arms, her usually stark white arms, were scarlet.

"Holy rabies!"

* * *

The last thing Kristoff remembered was ice, lots and lots and lots of ice. It blew everything away…the ground, the skies, the black gaping jaws he expected to tear his heart out at any moment.

He was expecting the pain. The rending of his flesh. The blood pouring from him in fountains, turning the world red. But no instead, there was just a blinding white and a wind jarring his senses to sleep. It was a feeling beyond numb, a feeling beyond pain and a feeling beyond sense.

He couldn't describe it.

But now there was black.

He could feel….a strange feeling. His senses were back, but wholly dulled. It felt like he was on his back, a soreness biting through, but that was it; he tried to move his hands, and maybe he could, maybe he did, but it was hard to tell.

Slowly, an orange glow enveloped the dark—shadows of corners and cracking walls told him he was staring at the ceiling, but the ceiling was moving.

Wait.

What?

Kristoff sat up fast, looking around frantically. There was a figure in front of him, walking, as if leading the way. It was… It was… actually, he couldn't see very well. Maybe that's what happens when you go from staring at pure white to black. But whoever it was was definitely young, or just really short. Then he looked down, and almost blacked out a second time right there and then.

So was moving. Why? Because he was sitting on a bed of giant spiders, and these spiders looked like they were made of human skulls, and were all over the floor. Layers of them. He yelled in both shock, fear and disgust, jumping from where he sat. But there was no 'floor' in sight. There were just more spiders.

Kristoff crashed into the wall, sidling up against it in a desperate attempt to evade the spiders. Not. Working. The person, apparently a girl, had turned around, yelled something he couldn't hear among his own panicked voice, and that was when he realized—the spiders didn't pass her.

So he did what any physically able terrified man would do.

He leapt past her, to the safe zone, and inadvertently sent them both tumbling to the ground. The spiders stopped moving after rushing to the felled girl and letting out a menacing hiss. He, in the meantime, got back to his feet and backed away. An insane headache threatened to split open his skull, but at the moment, that was nothing compared to the unparalleled shocks running through his heart. This was almost as scary as the beast.

The girl looked at him. "You okay?"

He took a couple steps back, and saw among the mass of spiders, three familiar figures. Two young women and a reindeer. His eyes flicked between them and the strange girl and of course, the many disturbing spiders.

"Who are you and what are you doing with us?" He demanded, slipping his hand into his coat pocket. He felt the familiar smoothness of his old all purpose knife, and whipped it out. The edge was dulled beyond use, and the hilt cracked, but he hoped he didn't look too pathetic with a puny little knife as a weapon.

The girl's eyes widened in surprise, and to _his_ surprise, a little fear. "Woah there big guy, I'm not gonna hurt you. We were just taking you out of the forest."

"We?"

She gestured to the spiders. "Uh, yeah. Me and my friends."

Holy shit, she had to be crazy. Those red eyed, morbid, deadly looking spiders, friends? Yeah, she had to be just as dangerous. But for her to be intimidated by his knife with a legion of undead arachnids at her disposal…that suggested otherwise. Yet…

"What forest?" As far as he was concerned, Summer couldn't have returned…besides, they were in the middle of a lake. And he didn't know that black haired people lived around Arendelle. Usually they ruled the Southwestern Kingdoms.

Come to think of it, this girl looked unlike any girl he had ever seen. She was dressed in all black, clad in a medium length, tight dress made of some material he's never found in a store. Her legs were striped—wait, that was some kind of clothing too—and she had a long, sharp collared cape. No one but royalty ever wore capes, and never so dark and unadorned.

And those shoes.

What _were_ they? Some kind of advanced western contraption?

"You don't remember?" Now it was her turn to be confused. "I found you, all of you, just laying in my forest. Actually, you weren't really just laying there. It was more like, you appeared with a bang! I mean literally, there was an explosion."

"What?"

"And explosion. Of ice."

Dots connected.

He looked over at Elsa, sleeping on the spiders. Anna was next to her, and she wasn't made of ice. Something happened. Something good, because Anna wasn't dead.

And they're also not dead now. If this girl was some deadly spider overlord, they would be dead already or…wrapped into weird bone-filled cocoons or something. And this girl seemed very…

Well, not evil and about to end their lives. Now feeling guilty about pointing a knife at a girl, he put it back in his coat and reached out his hand. "Sorry, but you just don't seem like a bad person. I kind of over reacted with the…creepy crawlies and all…It's safe to say I have no idea what's going on."

He could see her face light up. She was kind of cute, with bright blue eyes and a nice smile. Even though her smile had fangs.

God he must be hallucinating.

"Mavis," she introduced, shaking his hand. Her hand was cold, and he shrugged it off as the atmosphere.

"Kristoff," he returned. "So…are you a princess or something? Like, the spider princess, or the skull princess—"

She burst out laughing, letting go of his hand. He blushed, scratching the back of his head. "Hey I was being _serious_!"

"Sorry, I just didn't think humans would be so funny. I'm not a spider princess…honestly I didn't count on you waking up, so you wouldn't have even seen my friends…Which means I guess it's too late to say I'm a 'normal girl' in the right place at the right time, huh?"

"Hold on, you're talking like you're not human," he frowned, shaking his head. "I'm pretty sure there are only humans and trolls in Arendelle."

"Well, this isn't Arendelle, I don't even know what that is. This is Romania, though I think we have the occasional troll as well."

"This is messed up," he muttered. "Arendelle should be a huge, famous city. Everyone knows what Arendelle is. And I don't know what Romania is."

He paused. Then it occurred to him. "Several days ago the world froze over in Winter. Do you remember that?"

Inside he was begging for some kind of confirmation that he wasn't insane, or horribly displaced. He didn't want to face the fact that perhaps his home and closest thing he had to a family was now gone. The way things looked, this was not the same place he was knocked out in.

Her next words sunk his heart. "No. That's never happened, and I've been around for…a while."

His face fell, cursing under his breath. Mavis opened her mouth like she wanted to ask something, but decided against it. Instead, she offered up a kind smile. "I was going to take you guys to where I live. To recover. I still plan on it. But is there anything you need right now? It's still a walk away in this tunnel, but I might have something—"

"No, no. It's fine." He laughed awkwardly, attempting to diffuse his own tension. "I just have a lot to swallow."

He was staggered by the whole situation. It was a good thing that the girl seemed nice though, but more than anything, he was thanking the gods that Anna had lived.

What none of them saw were the shadows behind the spiders, snaking through their legs, and threatening to entangle Elsa's now restless body.

* * *

_**Please R&R! Tell me what I can do better so I can fix it! And sorry if there are lots of typos, I suck ass at proofreading.**_


	3. Descending, Part II

**Descending, Part II**

She saw Hans amidst the flurries, and Kristoff in the distance.

She saw her last hope, and her true love.

She saw her treacherous mistake, and her false love.

And then she saw her only family, who she loved most of all.

In moments Hans was upon her, the ice queen, her idol, sword raised above him. It was like a freeze frame, his face a mask of victory and malice, hers of shock. She was facing him, arms back, fingers splayed, pain etched in her features. He had said something, and she had listened.

_Elsa! Move!_ Anna tried to scream, to call, to beg. For sure her throat was ice, her vocal cords constricted and thin, and if she did speak, then it was drowned in the wind.

_Move, please! Don't just stand there!_

Her body, once siphoned of energy, filled with resolve. If Elsa wouldn't move, then she would.

She had to.

Anna felt the ice in her heart climbing up her bones, sucking the heat away, coursing through her veins. She felt it grasp her mind, stop her senses, but that wasn't enough. It would never be enough, for she would not give up. Every last ounce of her being forgot about Kristoff, forgot about Hans. There was just Elsa, and the impending doom upon her.

_Please. Please let me save her!_ She cried in her mind. _Whoever's up there, whatever's up there, don't let her die._

_Please._

In one last burst of strength she launched herself at the sword. And, praying she made it in time, ready to accept the pierce of the blade, the cold engulfed her. In the sky, the moon shone high. It cut through the clouds. Through the snow. Through the wind. And it bathed them all in an unseen light.

Anna sat up fast, breathing hard. Her hair was slick with sweat to the back of her neck, her hands shaking and clammy. She was freezing, but a warm heat where her was gave her all the comfort she needed.

There was a hard pain right above it, stinging each time her heart pulsed. Without looking it was easy to tell that she was wounded, and bleeding beneath what felt like bandages. But she welcomed it, the blood, the pain. Because the living bled. Because the dead couldn't feel.

And somehow, magically, miraculously, she was alive.

"Alive," she whispered. She had her voice back, a soft whisper, and it felt like heaven on her lips.

Wait.

"Elsa!" She shouted, stumbling to her feet in an attempt to get up. The pain, however, struck her harder than expected. She clutched her chest and gasped, crashing off the bed and onto the soft carpeted floor, curling in on herself. It was as if someone had impaled her and left the weapon inside, a permanent wound from the skin to the center. Anna gritted her teeth, trying not to cry out, and then sighed in relief when it subsided.

What happened?

The door flew open.

She was still lying on the ground, afraid to move for fear of the pain. But past shallow panting she lifted her head and looked towards the door, where a young girl had rushed in. She had a look of worry but Anna didn't recognize her.

"Are you alright?" She asked, kneeling over the redhead. "That was probably a dumb question," she added as an afterthought. Her arms were thin and pale, but surprisingly strong as she lifted her back on the bed. "You shouldn't move…I don't know what happened, but your wound looked pretty nasty."

Anna grimaced.

"Oh! Well not exactly _nasty_, but like, painful. But not horrible. Just like it hurt. You know. Not like I'm saying _you_ looked bad or anything, just that it was bleeding, like a lot, so please don't freak out, and actually you look kind of pretty, so really I'm being honest, dead honest, and I'll shut up now."

The girl looked awkwardly to the side, her face beet red. Anna giggled at her rambling, causing her to somehow blush even more. "I'll take that as a compliment. And it looks like you helped me out a lot. Oh, where are m manners? I'm Princess Anna of Arendelle."

The girl's eyes went wide with wonder, leaning forwards. At the same time, Anna met her eyes for the first time.

They were gorgeous.

The strange girl had large blue eyes, rimmed with thick dark lashes. They swam with an azurite frost, darker closer to the center and fading to a pale whisper of a blue. Wisps of smoke and flecks of silver danced within them, bright and almost shining with a sharp mix of innocence, curiosity and something unidentifiable but slightly alluring. A vast array of emotions were riddled within, but none held candle to the undeniable sense of awe and excitement they possessed.

For a while they just stared at eachother. Her heart beat like a jackhammer, and her breath caught between her teeth. It wasn't just her eyes which were beautiful. Onyx black hair matched her eyelashes, short and with choppy, yet endearing front bangs. They were uneven and had a kind of charm, and curved in slightly. It heavily contrasted her smooth, pale skin. Not a flaw could be found, neither blotch nor scar. Her lips were slightly parted, unadorned by makeup, showing two sharp fangs. But they didn't scare her. Quite the opposite.

They entranced her.

"Anna!" The two girls whipped their heads to the door, seeing a very happy Kristoff run in. Quickly the girl hopped back from the bed, and looked to the side awkwardly, habitually tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and biting her lip with the tip of one fang.

He wrapped her in a gentle bear hug, which she returned, nuzzling into his neck to hide a blush.

"I'm so, so glad you're okay," he breathed, wanted to cry in happiness but not willing to surrender his manly image. "You have no idea. I thought I lost you. You were ice, Anna, solid ice. But now you're not. You're alive. You're back."

He separated from her, a sloppy smile stretched across his face. "How?" She asked, feeling warmth rise up her neck.

"I didn't know how, but now I think I do. An act of true love to freeze your heart…and act of true love doesn't have to be romantic. It can also be familial."

She smiled, hope rising to her eyes. "So Elsa…?"

"Is perfectly fine!"

Overjoyed, she gave him one of her own bone crushing hugs, disregarding the pang in her wound. Then they surprised eachother a second time, Kristoff kissing her softly. His heat spread to her, his rough care and wild taste, and she remembered why she fell in love with him. He was so sincere, so kind, but he was also strong.

Trustworthy.

Heroic.

Even though he was no parts suave.

Mavis saw their exchange and tried to give them privacy, trying to sneak out of the room. A sour feeling took hold of her but she didn't know what it was. For some reason, seeing these two humans touch eachother like that didn't sit well with her.

Maybe it was just fatigue making her feel that way. She had been up all night finding this room, secluding it from her father's patrol route, and convincing the shrunken heads and suites of armor not to tell him. But when she got outside, an icy cold hand touched her shoulder.

The vampire whipped around, surprised and ready to explain to whoever it was that nothing suspicious at all was going on. But there was no wandering skeleton, curious zombie or cannibalistic gremlin there. Instead there was the ice queen Kristoff told her about—he explained to her their whole situation a few hours ago—with her eyes to the ground. She was dressed in a mix of her dress and one of Kristoff's overcoats, but no longer looked regal. Just sad.

She was ready to explain everything to her, but Elsa spoke first. "She's okay?" Her voice was a whisper, guilt and worry thick in each word. Mavis smiled and touched her hand.

"She's okay."

Elsa exhaled shutting her eyes. "Thank you, stranger. It was awfully kind of you to take us in, but now I have to go. Please don't tell Anna."

The queen turned around to walk off, but Mavis was having none of that. It just didn't seem right. She dissolved into a smoke of shadows, reappearing back in front of the human.

"Not so fast, miss-oh-queen-of-the-cold. You're not leaving yet." She realized how creepy that sounded, but decided now was not the time to regress into a bumbling mess.

Elsa tried to glare, lifting her eyes from the floor. "I have to go. I can't stay here…Chances are I'll end up freezing this strange place solid."

"You have no idea the things we have to handle in this place. A little ice is little to worry about."

"I froze my entire kingdom!" She exclaimed. "Now get away before I freeze you too!"

Okay, so that actually scared her a bit. What if she did? What if she was turned to ice, and all the other monsters in the hotel?

Not happening. She was a Dracula for Pete's sake! Draculas could care less about a little draft.

"Your power won't hurt me," she braved. Inside, though, she was getting more and more afraid the more the queen's chill ebbed out. Little spots of frost began to creep over the walls and ceilings. "So please just stay, you're safe here, and there's no way you could survive out there. This is not the place you grew up in, according to that blonde guy."

"I don't need to survive," she snapped.

Mavis scowled. "Bull freakin' shit. I don't know anything about weirdo human customs, but the way it is here, you don't ditch family. I'm pretty sure Anna would hate it if you left."

"Listen here, you don't know me, you don't know her. I know you mean well but I nearly killed her. That won't happen again, because I'd rather _die_ than leave the possibility."

"Yeah, I _don't_ know you, or her, or any humans for that matter, but I know that there is nothing out there which would be just fine without family. You're just being selfish. From what I was told, she braved death to save you. You wanna throw that away? You wanna break her heart, disregard her feelings? Be my guest, but I guarantee it'll pain you _both_ more than a sword will."

"He really told you everything," she sighed. "So quick to trust. I guess that's another reason why she loves him." There was a regretful, sorrow struck look across her face, so emotionally pained she almost regretted what she said to her—keyword being almost.

Elsa looked down the hall, as the darkness grew from door to door. Then she looked at Mavis, this troublesome stranger.

"At least see her," she pressed softly. "She just woke up, and I know, I _know_ she wants to see you."

She looked down the hall one last time, then relented. The vampire smiled, taking her hand, and went back inside. It was true—she knew nothing about them, these humans, or any at all. But she knew that they were strange. She grew up terrified of them, for her candy and her life, but these seemed like nice people. True people. People who could even be monsters.

Especially the ice queen. Never had she heard of a human with supernatural powers. The only thing 'supernatural' about them should be their 'supernatural' greed as they demolish forests and slay their own kind. But one who could control ice? Freeze a kingdom?

Mavis recalled when Kristoff spoke of his family—a clan of trolls. When he described them he had a nostalgic, familiar look on his face. It was filled with love when he elaborated on each and every little troll, not callous discrimination or disgust. He had grown up with both monsters and men, and the monsters he grew up with regarded him as kin. That had to be worth something, if not everything to her. If her far off cousins could accept humans, then why couldn't she and Dad?

When they walked in, Anna pushed off Kristoff. First he was confused, then saw her sister and backed off instantly, looking from one to the other. Elsa had her eye diverted once again, a horrible weight befalling the room.

At last the elder sister spoke, the words choking out and bleeding with guilt. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, chin dipped into Kristoff's coat as if to escape what she was sure were scrutinizing gazes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, so quiet yet filling the room. "I'm so, _so sorry_, Anna. I don't need forgiveness… I don't want forgiveness… _I don't deserve it_. You were the one thing I had left, and I almost took you from the world. I promised Mother and Father I would keep you safe. I swore on my _life_ I would. But I did the opposite. I'm so sorry." Her voice cracked and she took a short, ragged breath. "You can be with Kristoff, I wouldn't dream of stopping you. You two can live your happily ever afters, but I will only deter them. So I plan on—"

"Stop!" A strong punch landed clean to her side, and then two arms wrapped around her. "Just shut _up_!"

Anna had caught her sister in a tight embrace, ignoring both her wound's protest and her sister's. "Shut up, please. I forgive you Elsa, I always have!"

The queen was shocked, standing stiff and stock still. "No. No! You can't possibly forgive me. After everything I've done, all the pain I caused you—"

"Run away now and it'll only hurt me more," she whispered, tightening her hug. "You're my sister and I love you. I love you and I'm not letting go until you realize that. I forgive you. I forgave you when we were young, I will forgive you until we die."

Elsa looked down at her sister, seeing that they were both crying now, shaking in mental pain, or physical pain, or an incomprehensive mix of both. She shook her head wildly, mind muddled, heart aching. Why would she forgive her? How could she forgive her? It just wasn't right. Everything was her fault, everything always is, yet her Anna was. She loved uncondictionally, gave unconditionally, it wasn't human.

And she didn't deserve it.

"I'm sorry, _I'm so sorry_," she sobbed. "I didn't want to hurt you, I don't want to hurt you now. I don't want to hurt you _ever_. I'm so, so sorry Anna."

"If you don't want to hurt me anymore then don't leave me again. I've been so lonely Elsa, so just _stay_ with me."

She couldn't reply.

The mess of confusion and endless chasm of guilt tore away at her, manifesting in the ice now covering the room in its frigid osculation. But the very touch, the very idea of forgiveness no matter how undeserving prevented it from winding in sinister spikes and uncontrolled discord. Though the lights were now filmed in frost, the smooth wood under the sisters' feet was still dry and warm. Mavis and Kristoff had backed off in caution, but they understood that there was no serious danger. Kristoff was smiling contentedly, Mavis in awe at the touching display.

Were these humans?

She folded her hands together, almost able to feel the raw emotions pouring off them.

Dad was wrong.

Humans couldn't possibly be evil.

* * *

Jack slid down the tight rabbit chutes, dirt and rubble and sand and grass all rushing between his fingers and under his back. He knew from experience not to lean his bare feet on the sides, instead opting to rest the backs of his arms against the walls on each side of him so not to land with a boom. An incredibly earthy smell, comprised of what reminded him of moss and morning dew, already fell over them. It overpowered the musky smell of Bunnymund's shedding fur and paint dipped scent and was pleasant. The feeling reminded him of when he was alive, surrounded by the forests in the little log cabin he shared with his mother and little sister. He remembered the little moss pillows she put together when they were younger, remembered the summers swimming in the lakes with the minnows, remembered her cheerful skips when they played in the meadows.

He sighed, a one part sad three parts happy smile finding him. Years ago he would have fallen into a shock of depression, reminiscing on what he lost so easily and found so hard, but now he had grown to accept it and recall with fondness.

He couldn't change the past.

He couldn't bring her back.

But he also couldn't forget.

His memories were precious treasures Tooth guarded with utmost care, and they made him who he was now. Jack Frost the guardian ,who saved his sister as a human, and saved those like her as a spirit.

Up ahead and down below in the tunnels, a yell resounded and dirt splashed in his face. Suddenly he could see Bunnymund again—he was always so far ahead so he could navigate the passage—with his large feet stopped firmly in the earth and his boomerangs helping him stay in place.

Just in time, Jack slammed his staff into the floor, thoroughly glad it happened to be more horizontal than vertical. "Woah! What's the hold up?"

"Change of plans, mate. Santa's GPS is gonna put us into some tough n' tough. Hold on tight!"

Okay. So normally he was okay with the tunnels. In fact, they were pretty damn fun. But rough n' tough? Exactly how rough what he—

"Hold on mate!"

And for the second time in two minutes, the ground opened below him. This time, though, it was very different. Bunnymund once again took the lead, but there were less twists and turns. The guardian was right in his field of view yet he was hard to see, a musk of darkness and thick air between them. Before he knew it he was sliding down a much coarser earth, large rocks and sticks rapping against his body. Quickly getting more and more uncertain, he balanced on his staff, using his powers to give himself a smoother, more favorable ride.

A sharp turn twisted him to the side, sending him flying. The dirt had turned to mud, his hands holding the staff with a deathgrip. His hair was probably brown and slick with muck now but he couldn't tell, because in the moments they had changed course, it had grown ever darker.

"Brace yerseeeellf!"

A blast of fresh air overcame them. Now this was good. Jack sucked in a breath and let the wind weave around his arms and legs, lifting his hair and hood and running through his hands, slowing the halt, but not enough. Yes they left the tunnels, but both of them were quite unprepared for the cold water which greeted them. Good thing he _was_ the cold.

The guardians kicked their way to the surface, the tunnels having closed behind them. It wasn't night time but it was still rather dark, thick clouds blocking the sun's warm rays. They seemed to be in the middle of a lush pond, forest all around them, but without the light it seemed sinister. Each tree towered over them, and he could see little eyes glowing ever so slightly within their protective brambles. The bushes around them rustled in the wind but he got the feeling there were things moving inside them, disturbed by their dynamic arrival.

"I don't like this place," he muttered out loud, rubbing the filth of the ride from him while he could. "And remind me never, ever to take those tunnels again."

The Warren Warden hopped out of the water, shaking the wetness from his fur in a powerful whirl. For a moment it looked like he had blown up in fluff, then it all fell back again. "Hey, these er' not the normal circumstances. I've never been here before, no reason to. No one here has ever celebrated Easter, and I don't know if there are even any kids here!"

He spat out even more water and sneezed. "Besides, I don't plan on coming back after this anyway."

"My thoughts exactly. Too gloomy for me ol' pal."

Jack scanned the place. Past the forest, rising above it like a monster of a mansion, was a castle. Dark gray stone walls rose high on a tall tree-littered plateau, small lights glowing from the assorted windows. Gargoyles posed maliciously on the roofs and gate, and the shadows themselves seemed to dance. He glimpsed a bridge or something like it near the entrance, stretching far into the forest, disappearing pats his sight. It all fit perfectly well; an ominous, old, gothic-ish abode nestled within an equally mysterious forest. Suddenly he felt like had had been pulled a century back in time, when people built stone houses and lived in dark manors in the rich cities.

Bunnymund pulled out a globe, holographic in design but with a Christmas charm. Parts of it had been painted blue and green and pink but the water washed it off—apparently the bunny wanted to assert his own design. "According to north, our new guardian should be right over…"

As the older guardian's head swerved, his ears flattened and he glared at Jack. "Hey! Stop doin' that, eh?"

Jack gave him a quizzical glance. "What now?"

He face-pawed, snorting in annoyance. "Mate, I know winter's your thing and all, but freezing that castle is not the way to go."

He followed the Easter Bunny's sight, and squinted. One of the top rooms, the window still open and seeping a fiery light, was slowly encasing in a thin frost. He looked down at his hands, and at his staff, then looked back at the room.

"Uh, that's not me. I swear." He stuck his staff in the grass. "See? I'm not even touching it!"

They looked at eachother. Then they looked at the castle together, watching whispers of white ice snake across the cracks and crevices of the stone. Little bits of it chinked and cracked as the moisture solidified and expanded, but so faintly it was like watching it in slow motion.

Jack picked up his staff again, absently spinning it nimbly with one hand. His face morphed from one of puzzlement to shock and awe. "Wow, you guys didn't tell me our oh-so-evil-mystery girl has the same powers as me…"

Bunnymund's mouth hung part ways open, ears even flatter against his head. "She doesn't."

* * *

_**Thanks so much for the reviews, reads, favs and follows! I love you all! The next update may take a little longer due to the CRAP TONS of HW incoming, but I'll try and get it done. Also, to the guest-I'm glad you like it! All your questions will be answered in due time, don't you worry :)**_

_**And on a side note. Maybe you've seen this, maybe you haven't, but if you haven't, YOU MUST. JUST PLEASE. On youtube, look up SAM TSUI, 'LET IT GO'. Best. Fucking. Cover. EVER. You have no idea. As fans of Frozen, which hopefully you are, NOT CHECKING IT OUT IS A CAPITAL CRIME.**___


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